8. Chapter 8
Chapter 8
The drive to the restaurant was a quiet affair, the winding coastal road bathed in the warm glow of sunset. Colt’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his anxiety building with each mile.
“You know,” Sera’s voice cut through the silence, “when you said ‘in town,’ I didn’t realize you meant two towns over.”
Colt grimaced inwardly. “I, uh, wanted to try something different. There’s this place... I’ve heard good things.”
Sera hummed thoughtfully. “I hope you’re not going overboard on my account.”
“No, no. It’s fine, really.” A month or two ago, it would’ve made him wince. Now, though? Glenn had hoarded everything, including his money, and that all belonged to Colt now. He could afford to splurge on a nice meal.
As they crested a hill, the vast expanse of the ocean came into view, glittering in the fading light. Colt felt a familiar tug in his chest—a mix of awe and unease at the sheer vastness of it all. His apartment own in Whitehall wasn’t far from the coast, so it’s not like he didn’t see the ocean on a near-daily basis, but it was different up here. Regardless of the way his childhood house made him feel, the forests, the ocean, the mountains and the rain would always be home.
The restaurant itself sat overlooking the water, an elegant structure of glass and weathered wood. The scent of sea salt and something grilling greeted them as they opened the doors. Inside, rustic but expensive chandeliers made of elk antlers cast a soft glow over white-clothed tables. Colt fumbled with his jacket, acutely aware of how out of place he felt. He hadn’t known what to wear, so it was back to one of his black button-up work shirts. He’d stared in the grimy motel mirror and felt stupid, but he hadn’t changed.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” the host greeted them with a polished smile. “Do you have a reservation?”
“Under Grieves,” Colt said, trying to remember if he’d ever eaten anywhere that wouldn’t let you past the door without calling ahead.
As they followed the host to their table, Colt’s gaze darted around. Everyone looked so put-together, so at ease. He felt like an imposter, waiting to be unmasked at any moment.
Sera, on the other hand, glided through the restaurant as if he belonged there. His posture was relaxed, his smile easy as he thanked the host and settled into his chair. “This is lovely,” he remarked, taking in the panoramic ocean view. “You’ve outdone yourself for a first date, Colt.”
Colt managed a smile-made-silly by the use of the word date . He’d tried to play this off as casual, but if Sera wanted to run with it being a date, well, he wasn’t gonna complain.
“The wine list is impressive,” Sera continued, effortlessly pronouncing the French names. “If you haven’t tried it before, Chablis pairs wonderfully with raw oysters.”
Colt blinked, surprised. “I haven’t really tried much wine, actually.”
“What about oysters?”
“I grew up here. I’ve probably eaten oysters prepared in any way you can possibly prepare them.”
Sera grinned. “Well then, shall we embark on a culinary adventure together?”
As Sera expertly navigated the menu, suggesting dishes Colt had never heard of, a mix of admiration and insecurity swirled in his chest. How did Sera know all this? He’d wanted to make a good first impression, and so far, Sera was the only one who looked at all impressive.
Sera’s keen eyes settled on Colt, a hint of amusement dancing in their green depths. “You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you look like you’re contemplating a daring escape through that window behind you.”
Colt’s cheeks flushed, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth. “Yeah? Is it that obvious?”
“Only to someone who’s paying attention.”
Colt took a deep breath. The windows were open somewhere, letting the ocean in where he could take it in to sooth his nerves. “There’s just…a lot of people here. And I can’t even remember the last time I went to a sit-down restaurant like this. Definitely before the pandemic.” He glanced around, taking in the well-dressed crowd of couples and families and business meetings, complex dishes from a menu that was expensive enough it didn’t even list the prices. It all felt so foreign, so far removed from the cluttered, isolated world he’d inhabited for so long.
“I keep thinking everyone’s staring at me,” Colt found himself murmuring.
Sera leaned in, drawing Colt’s attention back and away from the rest of the room. “If they’re staring, it’s only because they’re admiring how handsome you look tonight.”
Colt’s heart skipped a beat at the compliment, unable to help a small but sincere smile. Feeling a bit more at ease, he decided to steer the conversation to more familiar territory.
“So, I was thinking about the house,” he began, “and I had an idea about how we could tackle the—”
“Ah-ah.” Sera raised a finger. “We’ve been living and breathing that house for three weeks now. Tonight, no Lullaby Lane, no clutter, no weight of the past. Just you and me, right here, right now.”
He opened his mouth to protest. His entire reasoning for being there was because of the house—how could he ignore it? But as he looked into Sera’s eyes, he felt a flutter of excitement at the prospect.
He wanted to see if there was something to this pulsing energy between them, and Sera was giving him the chance.
“Okay,” Colt agreed, his voice soft but determined. “Just us.”
***
As the evening progressed, Colt found himself relaxing into the gentle ebb and flow of conversation. The low lighting ghosted across Sera’s features, softening them, and like always, Colt was fascinated by him.
“How is it?” Colt asked halfway through the meal.
“Been a long while since I had proper crab and shellfish,” Sera said, still picking meat from the crab’s legs. “You can always tell when it’s caught fresh like this.”
Colt positively buzzed with the weightlessness washing over him, pleased he’d apparently chosen a good spot. Not like he’d agonized over it for the better part of three days or anything.
As they finished their meal, Sera suggested a walk along the main street outside to take in some of the holiday decorations and touristy shops that dominated this part of town. The crisp night air nipped at Colt’s cheeks as they stepped outside, and he instinctively moved closer to Sera’s side.
“Look at that,” Sera breathed, gesturing to the twinkling lights adorning the Victorian storefronts. “It’s like something off a postcard.”
He was right. Garlands of evergreen and holly encircled ornate Victorian lampposts, and delicate icicle lights hung glittering from eaves. This historic little town, for as expensive as it was and as haughty as its residents could be, was also inexplicably beautiful this time of year.
“I used to love coming here as a kid during Christmas,” Colt said absently. “I’d beg my dad to bring me, just to see the lights. It was one of the few times we’d leave the house together when I got older”
Sera’s hand found Colt’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “And now you’re here again, making new memories.”
Colt’s chilled fingers curled reflexively, soaking up that unfamiliar but welcome warmth while his heart threatened to climb out of his throat. He swallowed hard, then ventured, “What about you? How were your holidays growing up?”
Just like that, Sera’s hand slipped from Colt’s, and he glanced away, focusing on a distant point beyond the festive lights.
“I... It’s not really...” Sera began, uncharacteristically hesitant.
Colt’s stomach twisted. Had he overstepped? He’d been so caught up in the moment, in the warmth of Sera’s presence, that he’d forgotten how little he truly knew about the man beside him, even after almost a dozen conversations over dinner.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Colt said softly, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want.”
Sera turned back to him, his green eyes filled with an emotion Colt couldn’t quite place. Was it pain? Regret? Before Colt could analyze it further, Sera’s hands were gripping Colt’s biceps, grip firm but gentle.
“No, no. Let me be clear, I want to tell you,” Sera said, his voice low and intense, before he gave a brief laugh. “I just...really don’t know how.”
The vulnerability in Sera’s expression, so at odds with his usual charm, made Colt’s chest ache. As poorly equipped as he felt to handle anyone else’s pain, he wanted to. Badly. He wanted to yank down that carefully constructed mask of charm Sera held so firmly in place, just for a peek at what lay behind it.
Sera’s grip on Colt’s arms loosened, his fingers trailing down to Colt’s wrists before falling away entirely. The loss of contact left Colt feeling oddly bereft, but he kept his mouth shut, giving Sera the space to find his words.
“My upbringing,” Sera began, his gaze fixed just over Colt’s shoulder, “was...isolating. Lonely.” He paused, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “My family was wealthy, so in that regard, I never wanted for anything. Big home, expensive clothes, fancy church services and dinners at the finest restaurants. But it was all encased in this…twisted religious dogma. Nothing about my childhood—especially holidays—was what you’d call memorable. At least, not in a good way.”
Colt’s mind flashed back to his twelfth Christmas, the year his dad finally had to admit they no longer had space for a tree in the living room. He’d thought that was bad, but something in Sera’s voice hinted at a darkness that made Colt’s experiences pale in comparison.
“Christmas for us,” Sera continued, his voice taking on a detached quality, “was a week-long event dedicated to Jesus and the church. Fasting, endless prayers. No celebration, no fun. Just...repentance. Emptiness and self-imposed suffering disguised as piety.”
Colt frowned. “That’s…intense. And not very Christmas-like at all.”
Sera’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “No, not very Christmas-like at all. The only nice Christmases I’ve had were the ones in my trailer, sharing a small meal with Glenn.” His eyes softened at the mention of Colt’s father, and Colt felt a surge of warmth mixed with a twinge of longing.
“That, um, sounds a lot more like a cult than a church.”
Sera’s gaze snapped to Colt’s face, and for a heart-stopping moment, Colt was afraid he’d overstepped. But then Sera’s expression shifted, a look of weary agreement settling over his features.
“You’re not wrong. They were pretty good at keeping up appearances with the rest of the world. Most of them worked normal jobs, led normal lives—from an outsider’s perspective, anyway.” His voice took on a harder edge. “But the kids? We were schooled privately, our every move watched. Playtime, if you could call it that, was heavily supervised. I never had the chance to form any real friendships with kids my age.”
“So, you got out. How?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken compassion. The Christmas lights twinkled around them, highlighting the pain etched in Sera’s sharp features.
“I did,” he replied, his tone measured. “When I turned sixteen, when I worked up the nerve… I packed a bag and left.”
He envisioned a younger Sera, alone and scared, stepping out into a world he barely knew. “Where did you go?”
“Nowhere. Everywhere.” Sera chuckled. “I spent the next year homeless. Sleeping in shelters when I could, on the streets when I couldn’t.”
“You were a teenager running around on your own. No one ever caught you?”
Shrug. “I looked old enough. I didn’t get too many people asking questions.”
“Yeah, but what about your parents?”
Sera grimaced. “They called a few times, said they wanted me to come home. But it was halfhearted at best. They weren’t really looking for me. I guess their lives were easier without a godless heathen of a son pushing back at every step.”
A heavy silence fell between them as they stopped at the corner of a four-way street. Sera tipped his head back, lights glittering in his eyes, offsetting an expression that made him look a thousand miles away.
“I don’t know which part hurt more,” he confessed, “that they subjected their kid to that kind of life, or that they didn’t even miss me when I was gone.”
Colt’s heart shattered at the raw vulnerability in those words and the lining of age-old hurt that underscored it. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone could step out of that kind of upbringing and still find it in themselves to be patient and kind, to not be jaded with the world, to still reach out for connections the way Sera did. He groped for something to say, anything even remotely comforting, and came up woefully empty-handed.
Sera’s gaze drifted back down to him, seeming to return to the present. He smiled and shrugged again. “After that first year, I learned to survive on my own. Had to, really. Odd jobs here and there. Dishwashing, landscaping, retail, whatever I could find. I got by. Getting my GED was a nightmare. Turns out, homeschooling in a cult doesn’t do much to prepare you for standardized tests.”
Colt felt a surge of admiration. “But you did it,” he said softly.
Sera nodded. “Eventually. Took night classes, studied whenever I could. It was... Well, necessary. I had to prove to myself I could do it.”
They crossed the street, stopping to take a seat on an ornate metal bench, hip to hip. Colt wanted to know more. Wanted to know everything about Sera’s journey, but hesitated to pry further. Instead, he asked gently, “And the trailer? Your truck?”
“Saved up for years,” Sera replied, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. “It’s not much, but it’s mine . My home, my freedom, and I got it all on my own.”
“That’s pretty amazing. I hope you realize that.”
Sera smiled. “You know, staying with Glenn was the first time I’d settled anywhere for more than a few months after getting that GED.”
“So, like, what’s your end goal?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, you’re in your thirties now. Do you want to keep traveling forever?”
A wry smile played at the corners of the man’s mouth as he tipped his head to look at Colt, but there was a vulnerability in his gaze that Colt hadn’t seen before.
“Honestly? I have no idea.”
Colt waited, sensing there was more.
“It’s like...” Sera paused, searching for words. “Even after all this time, I feel like I’m still figuring out how to interact with people. Sometimes, the ‘real world’ is just...overwhelming. Alien, even.”
A group of laughing teenagers passed by, their carefree chatter a stark contrast to the weight of Sera’s words. Colt found himself unconsciously leaning into Sera, as if to shield him from the noise.
“I thought maybe by traveling, I’d find some kind of purpose,” Sera continued, his voice low. “Like, I’d stumble across my reason for existing in some small town or hidden corner of the world.”
Colt’s heart ached at the loneliness in Sera’s tone. “Any luck with that?”
Sera shook his head, a rueful chuckle escaping him. “Not yet. But I’m not looking for anything grand, you know? I don’t need a mansion in the Hamptons or some high-powered career.”
“No?”
“Hm, no. I think...” Sera’s voice was barely above a whisper now. “I’d be happy if I just found a community to belong to. A place with people who actually wanted me there.”
The words “I want you here” burned on his tongue. But they refused to come out, trapped behind a wall of insecurity and self-doubt. He glanced at Sera’s profile, illuminated by the brightly decorated Victorian storefronts. Sera’s eyes reflected the twinkling lights, a mix of longing and resignation in their depths.
Colt’s mind raced, grasping for something, anything to say. But what could he offer? A dilapidated house full of painful memories? A life of sorting through the wreckage of his father’s hoarding? It wasn’t like he had much of anything to show for the last seven years of his life.
“That’s a beautiful thing to want,” Colt finally managed, his voice barely audible above the distant sound of cars and conversations. He cringed inwardly at how inadequate the words felt.
Sera turned to him, a sad smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Is it? Sometimes I wonder if it’s too much to ask for.”
“Do you think you might find that here? In Gold Moon Bay?”
The moment the question left his lips, Colt regretted it. It was too leading, too desperate. He braced himself for Sera’s polite rejection.
Sera didn’t answer immediately, though. Unable to bear the silence, Colt shifted his weight, inadvertently leaning his shoulder against Sera’s arm. To his surprise, he felt Sera sag slightly, their bodies aligning in a tentative connection. It wasn’t much, but for Colt, whose childhood had been marked by isolation and neglect, it felt monumental.
“I don’t know,” Sera finally said, thoughtful. “I’ll admit, there’s something about this place...it’s both comforting and a little scary.”
Colt nodded, understanding all too well. “Yeah, it’s the trees, the mountains. Everything here’s so old, so big. It’s beautiful, but it can make you feel like such a tiny, insignificant speck in the universe.”
Sera’s lips quirked in a half-smile. “So insightful.”
A warm flush crept up Colt’s neck, and he ducked his head, grateful for the dim lighting. As they sat there, shoulder to shoulder, Colt couldn’t shake the feeling that Sera was holding something back. There was tension in his jaw that suggested unspoken words. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed it, either. There were times throughout the day or over dinner where Colt would catch his companion watching him, lips slightly parted as though he had something important to say.
Even as he thought maybe he could muster the courage to ask, Colt couldn’t bring himself to speak up. Over the last few weeks, Sera had gone from being a thorn in his side to being an elixir for his wounds, some of them decades old. He slowly allowed himself to drop his head to Sera’s shoulder. For now, he just wanted to enjoy this.
Whatever this was.
***
The phone’s glow illuminated Colt’s face in the darkness of his motel room, casting shadows that accentuated the tired furrow in his brow. A message from Sera lit up the screen, a gentle ping breaking the silence.
Sera Howell
Still up?
Colt had texted when he got to the motel to let Sera know he’d gotten back safe from their outing. That’d been three hours ago. During that time, Colt had laid in a bed that seemed to be getting increasingly uncomfortable night after night, lamenting that he felt colder now than he had sitting out in the cold with Sera at his side.
Colt Grieves
Unfortunately. Working on sleep.
Sera Howell
Sweet dreams, then. See you in the morning?
His thumbs hovered over the screen. He had no complaints about their evening. Whatever anxiety he’d started the night with, they’d all vanished quickly enough. Sera seemed to be having that effect on him more and more.
Colt Grieves
Hey quick question
Sera Howell
?
Colt Grieves
I have to drive back down to Whitehall this weekend. Want to come with?
Sera Howell
Yes
Colt Grieves
Uhhh do you wanna know what we’re going for first
Sera Howell
Oh. Does it matter?
He bit back a smile.
Colt Grieves
See you in the morning. Sweet dreams.